Читать книгу DEAD SILENT - Neil White - Страница 10

Mike Dobson faltered as the customer leant towards him to place a cup of coffee on the table. It was the scent of Chanel No. 5, an air of sweet flowers that took him by surprise, rushed him back to more than twenty years earlier, to her smell, the faded Chanel, and those moments together, her hair over her face, her eyes closed, her nails dug deep into his chest. Then he grimaced as the images changed, became slashed with red, over her face, in her hair, splashed onto his hand.

He closed his eyes. He could train himself not to think about it, to live a normal life, but then a perfume would suddenly send him back, or the scent of lavender in bloom, heady and filled with summer.

‘Excuse me,’ said a distant voice, breaking into his thoughts.

Mike opened his eyes quickly and saw his customer. She looked concerned.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

He forced an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry. Just a spot of toothache, that’s all,’ and he gestured towards his cheek and laughed nervously.

She winced. ‘That’s not nice. We can do this another time, if you don’t feel right.’

He shook his head. ‘No, it’s fine,’ he said. He took a deep breath. Switch on, he told himself. ‘Like my manager said, we can go half-price if you sign up today. It’s a special offer that ends tonight, so you really need to make a decision today.’

‘But I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It seems such a lot of money for something so…’ She searched for the right word as she nodded towards the sample next to him, a cross-section of white PVC fascia to replace the wooden boards that lined the roof edges.

‘Unglamorous?’ he offered, and when she smiled, he added, ‘There’s nothing glamorous about damp getting into your house, about the smell of mould in your bedroom.’ He banged the sample with his hand and tried another smile. ‘It might be just guttering, but it’s like saying that your roof is just tiles.’ He leant forward, and she leant in with him. ‘And it will stop your house being the one the neighbours talk about, the one that lets the street down, because you’ve got paint peeling off your wooden boards. You’ll never need to paint them again if you’ve got these.’

She sighed and sat back on the sofa, the movement wafting more perfume towards him. He felt nauseous, wanting to turn away, to get away from the memories, but the customer was nearly at the point of buying, he could sense it. She was falling for the sales tricks, the limited discount, the call to the manager. But something stopped him from forcing it. She distracted him, casually dressed, wearing those low-cut jeans that show off the hipbones, a sea horse tattoo visible just below her beltline.

He closed his eyes again, just for a moment, and filled his nose with the Chanel. The sale was over, he had to get away, before the other images drifted into his head. Blood. Smile. Hair. Still. Dirt.

‘Okay,’ he said, his voice faint. ‘It is a lot to pay.’ He passed over his card. ‘If you change your mind, call me.’

He felt her fingers brush his as she took the card from him and his cheeks flushed. She tapped it against her chin. ‘I will, thank you.’

He collected his samples, his breathing heavier now, and then he rushed for the door. He needed to be outdoors, where the breeze would take her scent away.

He climbed into his car, the samples thrown quickly into the boot, and took some deep breaths. Mike could sense her still watching him as he turned the key in the ignition.